Page 7 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire
Rose lifted an eyebrow and stared back at poor Rhys until he shifted uncomfortably in his size 16 shoes.
Who the hell was Mr. Kalli-whatever? A model? A Bond villain? A celebrity from one of those real-life shows that weren’t real?she wondered, unimpressed by the invitation.
“While I appreciate the flattering offer, I’m afraid I’m unavailable. I’m guarding the sacred chalices of my companions.” She gestured to the three untouched drinks and Clarissa’s sequin-studded purse. “A mission I take great pains to succeed in.”
Rhys blinked. “You… what?”
“I said I’m good. But tell Mr. Kalli-whatsit I appreciate the invite,” she said, softening her rejection with a sweet smile.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again. Nothing came out.
Rose gave him a sunny smile and an encouraging shooing motion. “Run along now. Go be intimidating somewhere else.”
He hesitated, as if waiting for her to change her mind, then gave a slow frown and turned, weaving his way back toward the stairs.
She watched him go, amused, then glanced up—and stiffened.
Behind the smoked-glass railing of the VIP lounge, a man stood watching her.
Tall. Sharp. Effortless in black-on-black tailored perfection. His posture screamed control and confidence, but it was his eyes that made her pulse stutter. Even from here, she felt it. A gaze like flame. Direct. Devouring. Intrigued.
He didn’t look away.
Danger, Rose Smythe!The warning in her head felt like it was spoken in the exact voice of the 1960s robot from the television seriesLost in Space.
Rose knew she should look away, but she didn’t.
Instead, she lifted her glass, tilted it in mock salute, and took a sip, her eyes never leaving his. Then, just as deliberately, she forced her gaze away and stared at the dance floor like he wasn’t even worth a second glance.
But inside?
A shiver of unease rippled down her spine. While her bad side cheered on her false bravo, her good side was shaking its head, asking when she’d learn:you don’t tease the devil and expect him not to notice.
Her life had been spent sharpening her senses, learning to detect the subtle signs of men like him from afar. She was fortunate to have two master instructors guiding her path.
Her grandmother, despite her petite, four-foot-eleven size, could stare down a street punk or a diva primavera backstage until they whimpered like an overtired puppy. She had also taught her how to discern the subtle tells of deception, even from actors with the most polished performances.
The men here, especially the one upstairs, were the type of men her grandfather had warned her about—powerful, poised, predatory. The kind who saw the world as theirs and took what they wanted without asking.
She fingered the hem of her grandfather’s old sweater, feeling his presence, and smoothed her expression. She just needed to remind herself she wasn’t anyone’s prey. Not tonight. Not ever.
Let him watch.
She wasn’t named Rose for nothing. She came with a wall of thorns not even the most charming prince could cut through.
Three
Rose stood, the thin leather strap of her bag digging into her fingers as she mentally composed her curt exit speech. She had sacrificed enough of her night—and sanity—for friendship and social obligation.
Heavy bass vibrated through her skull, each throb a reminder of the impending man-hours required to clean up the colorful aftermath of the confetti bomb that had exploded during tonight’s performance ofBeauty and the Beast. The Beast’s rose petals had burst with enthusiastic vigor courtesy of the special effects department.
She caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned to see Clarissa and Rod gliding back to the table. Clarissa’s flushed cheeks and smudged lipstick screamed she’d just scored a VIP pass to her boy-band fantasy.
Perfect timing.
She pasted on a smile—the kind that could mean mild concussion or murder in progress—and opened her mouth to offer a graceful exit cloaked in the very real excuse of a splittingheadache… when the now-familiar boulder with a beard returned.
“Back so soon?” she asked, her voice dry as bone.
